


Why Wait?

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-10
Updated: 2008-06-10
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:19:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Dean... watches Sam. Full summary inside.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: Um... Random.  


* * *

Why Wait?

 

ooo-ooo-ooo

 

Disclaimer- I don't own them. GOD, I wish I did....

 

Summary- This time was different. It wasn't like before.

Before, Sam wasn't entirely naked.

Before, Sam wasn't hard.

Before, Sam didn't have his hand wrapped around his dick, and Dean certainly hadn't watched.

 

ooo-ooo-ooo

 

Sam was naked. 

 

Very naked, in fact. 

 

Now, growing up in a family of all men, there wasn't much to hide. Sam and Dean walked around the hotel room before bed in boxers, they would walk out of the bathroom in just a towel, sleep shirtless... simple stuff like that. Simple stuff like that wasn't a big deal. But this time.... This time was different. It wasn't like before. 

 

Before, Sam wasn't entirely naked. 

 

Before, Sam wasn't hard. 

 

Before, Sam didn't have his hand wrapped around his dick, and Dean certainly hadn't watched. 

 

Fuck. 

 

Part of Dean felt like a pervert. Here he was, staring through the window of their hotel room, watching his seventeen year old brother jerk off. Dean had came home early from playing pool. He had won two hundred dollars and had decided to come home early to spend time with Sam. 

 

But, as it turned out, Sam was spending some quality time with himself. 

 

And Dean was watching. 

 

But yeah, Dean had came home early and, instead of going in, he decided to spy first. See what Sam was up to. 

 

Maybe he'd be singing along to the Backstreet Boys into his hairbrush, or watching porn, or something that Dean could tease him about. 

 

But the latter would have been relatively close to the truth. 

 

Except Sam wasn't watching porn. He wasn't watching anything. His eyes were shut tight, looking concentrated, laying on the bed closest to the windo-ohholyshit. 

 

'That's my bed.' Dean thought randomly. Sam was jerking off on Dean's bed. 

 

Holy fuck. 

 

At this revelation, Dean turned to watch Sam's face, even though his eyes had previously been further south. 

 

The muscles in his little brother's neck were sticking out, his head was back against the pillow, his back was arched, and he was biting his lip. 

 

Hard. 

 

In other words, Sammy was fucking gorgeous when he was about to come. 

 

Dean, with difficulty, swallowed. His mouth wasn't wanting to cooperate with him. His eyes focused on the sight in front of him, separated by only a big piece of glass and a few feet. 

 

With that thought, Dean pressed his hand against the cool glass and the realization hit him that he desperately wanted to be in there with Sam, touching him, making him come so hard he saw stars. 

 

But it didn't look like that was gonna happen this time. He could tell Sam was on the edge of coming. His toes curled, heels digging into the mattress, mouth falling open, entire body tensing, shaking slightly. There was only loud panting for a few seconds and then, even through the glass, Dean heard it. 

 

His name. 

 

Holyfuckinghell. 

 

"Dean." Again, sounding like the greatest fucking thing Dean's ever heard. He was hard, the pressure of his jeans against his hard on almost painful. 

 

But there wasn't anything he could do about it. Because, inevitably, with their bad luck, an old lady would look out of her hotel room and see a guy masturbating and looking through a window. 

 

And getting arrested probably wasn't a good thing right now. 

 

But Dean stopped thinking about getting arrested when he saw Sam still. 

 

Sammy came like a fucking freight train, his entire body covered in sweat, shooting come onto his stomach and chest. 

 

Jesus, Dean thought. Maybe I'll give him a hand next time. 

 

But as Sammy lifted a hand to his mouth and licked his come from his fingers, Dean came to a final decision and headed for the front door. 

 

Why wait until next time?


End file.
